Going, Going, Gone
by HecateA
Summary: It's not like Dean to appear at his window in the middle of the night inexplicably, but Seamus won't turn him away. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: Gosh, this one's angsty. **Remember that fic dump for a pinata game a few days ago? Well, there's another one hanging... Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **Smutty.

* * *

**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping Wars; Hogwarts; Rays of Blades; Not Commonwealth

**Individual Challenge(s): **More Than England; Gryffindor MX (x2); Brush (Y); Summer Vacation; Seeds; Tissue Warning; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A (Love); Themes & Things B (Prejudice); Ethnic & Present; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

**Representation(s): **Muggleborn Dean Thomas

**Bonus challenge(s): **In the Trench; Second Verse (A Long Dog); Chorus (Spinning Plates)

**Tertiary bonus challenge: **NA

**Word Count: **1682

* * *

_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnegan (Boom Boys)

**List (Prompt): **Summer Micro 2 (Sex/Smut)

* * *

_**Hogwarts Submitting Info**_

**House: **Ravenclaw

**Assignment: **Assignment #1, Criminology, Task #1 Alt: Write about someone trying to understand another person's motivation behind their actions.

* * *

**Going, Going, Gone **

_There's something about you in the moonlight_

_But your eyes go so well with the day_

_You won't let go of your layers_

_But your power can strip me away_

_It's easier for us to hide_

_If you come out, then so will I_

_Promise that I'll meet you halfway_

_'Cause I see every part of you_

_And I can tell you see me too_

_By the way that you say my name_

-_Honest Man,_ Ben Platt

Seamus was up late pouring over a graphic novel that had been at the top of his to-read pile for weeks. The knock at his window startled him out of his skin. Wand out, he considered whether he should throw a shirt on before investigating, but the knock came again more ardently and urgently.

He crept towards his window and pulled the curtain away, only to see Dean crouching outside, on the roof.

"Jesus, Dean," Seamus said, putting aside his wand and pushing open the window. He lowered his voice. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" Dean whispered.

"What am I going to do, leave you out to dry?" Seamus said. He offered Dean a hand and helped him crawl inside, wrapping him in a hug when he landed. He buried his nose in Dean's shoulder and inhaled. He smelled different during the summer; when he was home and washing his clothes with some flowery Muggle laundry detergent. Still; it was good to have him close. This entire summer had been a living nightmare.

Dean pulled away more forcibly than usual, which confused Seamus a bit, and closed the window shut.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Seamus said, looking around his bedroom. "I'd have cleaned up, or put a shirt on…"

He would have expected some sly comment from Dean then, something like '_now why would I want that?' _He was much cheekier than people usually given how polite and pleasant and respectful he was in public company.

But Dean didn't say anything, which was weird. It was weird because it wasn't what Dean was like around him, and Seamus didn't know where the change came from. He just chewed his lip and looked at Seamus, in the same way that he looked at something before drawing it.

Seamus reached out and brushed his downy hair before cupping his cheek.

"Dean?" Seamus said. He slowly took in the jeans and sweater that Dean was wearing—an outfit that didn't make sense in this kind of heat—and the backpack slung across his shoulders. Was he planning on staying, then?

"I just really wanted to see you," Dean said. His hand rested on top of Seamus' and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He pulled Seamus' hand to his lips and kissed his palm, sending electricity up Seamus' arm and through his body.

"I missed you too," Seamus said. He put his other hand on Dean's hip. "Are you okay?"

It wasn't like Dean to spontaneously appear in Ireland; he was mindful of how his mother fretted and worried about him, a total Mama's Boy. And he was usually needed around the house in the summer to keep an eye on his sisters, or help his stepfather with his landscaping company. They'd always managed to visit each other in the summers, but it was never uncalculated and unannounced like this…

"I just… really needed to be with you tonight," Dean said again.

"Okay," Seamus said, still not sure that he understood. "Well, you're here now. Did you want me to make tea? I just finished reading something and I think you'd really like the artwork in…"

"No," Dean said. "I needed to _be _with you tonight."

When Seamus was slow to answer, Dean dropped his backpack and pulled Seamus to him by the hips and kissed him. There was something frantic and desperate in the kiss; how open-mouthed, how harsh it was… Seamus took a second to think through the situation, but the truth was that being away from Dean for so long—with Dumbledore dead, Voldemort amuck, the Ministry in shambles, and the state of things so fragile—had drained him in a way he hadn't realised an absence could. Maybe he should have slowed them down and asked a few more questions. But his worry melted away because Dean was here, close to him, and in one piece. That was something, it had to be.

And so he kissed Dean back, angling his hips against his boyfriend's just so. Dean pulled away for just a second to pull away his sweater, his shirt, his undershirt, and then pushed Seamus back against his bed. Seamus' knees buckled and he went down easily, willingly, and Dean followed suit.

At some point Seamus remembered that he hadn't locked his door, because why would he have? And he also realised that his wand was too far away for him to cast the kind of muffing charm that tended to come in handy in situations like these, but he only had about three seconds to consider this before Dean's mouth distracted him immensely.

* * *

When they were laying in bed curled up against each other, Dean's breath warming the back of Seamus' neck in comforting warm pulses, Seamus spun around to face him.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispered.

"I think you're the one that needs caring for tonight," Seamus said. He didn't know why, but that was secondary to the fact that Dean needed him. That came first. "Come here…"

He pulled Dean against him and wrapped his arms around him. The height difference between the two of them always made Dean an awkward little spoon until they settled into it, and tonight he seemed especially tense. But eventually he relaxed in Seamus' arms, and Seamus tucked his chin against the top of Dean's head. He traced patterns and shapes against Dean's stomach with his fingertips, and he felt Dean's breathing slow until he was sure he was asleep.

Seamus was afraid of falling asleep, the abandoned backpack on the floor felt like some kind of sentient and unwanted third party in the room. But years of sleeping next to Dean in the Common Room had attuned Seamus to his light snoring and the particular rhythm of his slumber, and so eventually he got carried away too.

* * *

When Seamus woke up, he was alone. The window had been closed. The discarded clothes had been picked up—even Seamus' had been thrown in his laundry basket.

He looked around the bedroom looking for a trace, and only found a note with a golden DA Galleon resting on top of it.

_Sorry. Really sorry. I panicked and all I knew was how badly I needed you yesterday. Read _The Prophet _today. You'll see. I'm sorry. Destroy this note after, this is about to get too dangerous for us to even play with. I left you my DA coin because I knew I'd try reaching out to you with it if I kept it. I'm sorry. We won't talk for a while. I wish that wasn't the last time we saw each other for a bit. I'm going to miss you so much. I took that graphic novel you wanted to show me, that way we'll have something to talk about when we see each other again. For now, we have to hide again. I'm sorry. I love you. Again, please don't keep this note. _

_Love (so much love),_

_Dean _

* * *

When Seamus came down for breakfast after showering, he had the hardest time in the world keeping a straight face around his parents. Mum was sitting at the table, reading the paper. Dad was at the stove, frying up hashbrowns for breakfast, and making the house smell like oil and paprika. They were both acting perfectly normal, which was a relief insofar as it meant they hadn't… well, overheard anything.

"Morning," Seamus said, trying to sound natural as he stepped forward and kissed the top of Mum's head. She was sitting at the kitchen table, reading _The Prophet. _The knuckles gripping her mug of tea were white. "Are you done with the paper?"

"I don't think I can read another line," she said weakly.

"Why?" Seamus asked. "What's wrong?"

Mum's lip trembled as she pointed to an article accompanied by a photo of Pius Thickness at some sort of press conference. The headline read:

MUGGLEBORN WITCHES AND WIZARDS TO BE BROUGHT TO TRIAL FOR ILLEGALLY ACQUIRING MAGIC; HEARINGS TO START NEXT WEEK.

Seamus' stomach sank. His eyes found the deck: "Staff from the new Muggleborn Registration Commission to hand out orders to appear in court as of this morning."

When Seamus swallowed, it felt like there were rocks going down his throat.

He wondered how Dean had found out—who had tipped off the networks of Muggleborns that had been exchanging news and anxieties ever since Voldemort had returned.

"Wow," he breathed under his breath.

"Seamus, sweetie," Mum said, trying to get a hold of herself. "Have you… when's the last time you've talked to Dean?"

Seamus looked at the page again. Suddenly, all the pieces slid into place and he understood where Dean had come from. Or rather, why he'd come. He wondered how quickly Dean had packed up his things, or whether he'd been ready to go for weeks now and anticipating the worst. He wondered where Dean had even gone. Then he realised that he shouldn't wonder those things. That was why Dean had come, after all.

"Not since we said goodbye on the platform," Seamus said. "We're not together anymore, actually. I don't know what he's going to do or where he is right now."

Mum frowned and her mouth parted a little bit.

"Seamus," Dad said from the stove. "Love, you didn't tell us. I'm so sorry…"

"Why?" Mum asked. "He was such a good boy and you two were...?"

"Because he's Muggleborn," Seamus said evenly, looking from one of his parents to the other. He chewed his lips and felt tears prickle in his eyes; but he knew that this was true.


End file.
